


Crumpled

by babykpats



Series: Short Shorts [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Crying, Death, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6423250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykpats/pseuds/babykpats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's hand were shaking when he opened the letter.</p><p>It came in a clean white envelope, leaving no hints as to the gravity of the news that it held within.</p><p>Mickey was dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crumpled

**Author's Note:**

> Can I just point out that I find it funny that my word count came up to 666?
> 
> Also, I've been on a minimalist-writing kick so my Short Shorts series will be slowly filling itself up.

Ian's hand were shaking when he opened the letter.

It came in a clean white envelope, leaving no hints as to the gravity of the news that it held within.

Mickey was dead.

Details of the death were left a little vague but arrows pointed towards rape and fagbashing. Ian couldn't read the letter properly because of the unshed tears blurring his eyes so he folded it neatly and kept it for later.

He focused now on the package that came along with it. He carefully tore the wrapper and emptied the contents on Caleb's coffee table, pushing aside the sculpture that was on it. Scattered in front of him were the things Mickey had on him the moment he got arrested.

Mickey's cellphone, a couple bills and the clothes Mickey was wearing that day crumpled into a tiny little ball.

Ian got inexplicably irritated seeing how creased the clothes got. The least they could do was fold it up properly and put it in a fucking box!

Ian kicked away all the other sculptures littering Caleb's living room. He heard a crash but it sounded distant to his ears.

Everything did.

Ian spread out Mickey's old clothes on the floor and desperately tried to smooth it all out. He tried to make it look presentable and not like a bundled pile of laundry.

Once he was done, he stepped back and wiped the tears away lest they fall on the clothes.

He sat on an empty spot on the floor and hugged his knees. He reached for the phone and swiped through it.

Ian didn't know what he was looking for. A goodbye message? A photo? A fucking text?

But there wasn't anything. The gallery was empty, the messaging app was empty, everything was gone. Mickey must've deleted everything.

The stupid texts, the stupid selfies, the stupid photos Ian took while Mickey was sleeping, everything. Mickey deleted everything.

Ian frowned.

He got up and ran to where he left his phone this morning. He quickly tapped his messaging app desperately looking for any remnants of Mickey.

Nothing.

He must've gotten rid of it.

Ian was shaking now.

Impossible. It was so fucking impossible that after all those years that Mickey and Ian were together, Ian had nothing left but some wrinkled clothes and a stupid phone.

Ian opened up the gallery on his phone. He had a distant memory of deleting every single one of Mickey's pictures but he still swiped through it desperately wishing that he missed one.

Desperately hoping that he'll get to see Mickey's face one last time.

There was nothing.

"Fuck!" Ian yelled out, frustrated.

In a last ditch effort, he checked his voicemail. He remembered deleting a bunch of the messages thinking that they were all stupid messages of people telling him to come home.

Messages of Mickey telling him to come home.

Ian angrily wiped at the tears that were now falling across his cheeks.

He frustratedly skipped through the messages people left when he ran away with Monica.

None of them were from Mickey.

He skipped through messages from Svetlana telling him to pick up diapers. He skipped through messages from the various booty calls.

He needed to hear Mickey. He needed Mickey.

He grew more and more desperate until the voice message came.

His brain wasn't even registering the words he was hearing. Ian just let himself be enveloped in Mickey's voice. The words were angry but Ian didn't care. It was the last piece of Mickey he had.

The phone went silent in his ear and Ian was about to replay the message but Mickey wasn't done yet.

_I'm worried about you._  
_I love you._

Ian stood completely still body seemingly frozen. But slowly, he started crumpling, shrinking into himself until he was nothing but a ball of tears rolled up on the floor.

He replayed the message again and again and again and again.

"I'm sorry." Ian whispered into the speaker. "I'm so fucking sorry."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at that dark place again. Thinking of getting myself checked.
> 
> Also, did Ian ever listen to that voicemail that Mickey left?


End file.
